


Loving Him Was Never Enough

by saucekays



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Alluka is a good sister, Angst, Author wrote this to cope, Canon Compliant, Drabble, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Gay Killua Zoldyck, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Killua is just Very Much In Love, POV Killua Zoldyck, Pining, Pining Killua Zoldyck, possible relationship in the future
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:42:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25068595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saucekays/pseuds/saucekays
Summary: Killua is so in love with Gon it hurts. But there's no way he can tell him. Not now, not after everything they've been through. At least he can always talk to Alluka.Canon-compliant. Set during the Chimera Ant arc, 13th Chairman Election arc as well as a scene after Killua and Gon's parting. A (longer) sequel is quite possible, since I want these babies to have a happy ending.
Relationships: Alluka Zoldyck & Killua Zoldyck, Gon Freecs/Killua Zoldyck, Nanika & Killua Zoldyck
Comments: 21
Kudos: 79





	Loving Him Was Never Enough

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! I wrote this small fic after finishing HxH to cope with my Killugon emotions. This piece is basically my reading/interpretation of Killua's mindset and feelings for Gon at this point in the story, along with a couple extra scenes I made up. Depending on the circumstances, I may use this as a starting point for a longer fic in which aged-up Killua and Gon meet again and subsequently get together. Let me know if you'd be interested in reading that. For now, enjoy this fic!

“Hey, Killua?”

“Yeah?”

“What are you staring at me for?”

“Staring? What do you mean, you idiot? I wasn’t staring.”

“Really? Okay then, if you say so.”

\---

Killua was walking through the streets of Doli, where he and Gon had been staying for the last three nights. The sun was setting, illuminating cobblestone streets with a fiery light. A breeze fluttered through the air, chilling Killua’s skin under his thin tank top. He kicked a stray pebble across the street as he cursed himself. 

Gon had noticed Killua staring again today.

If Gon was asking about the looks, how obvious must they be to other people? Killua was sure that if he were to observe someone acting the way he himself was right now, he would easily be able to tell what was going on. He would be able to tell that—

_ Shit.  _ Killua didn’t even know when the looks had started: he supposed they had always been there in some way or another. Though Killua would never admit it out loud, Gon had fascinated him from the very beginning. Gon, who had considered Killua his friend before the latter had dared conceive of the word. Gon, who’d rushed to the place Killua fears more than Hell itself without a second thought to save him. Gon, who had not once been intimidated by his background; hell, that kid had watched Killua rip a man’s heart out with his bare hands and still asked for skateboarding tips less than ten minutes later. 

How was Killua _not_ supposed to look at someone so special? 

But Killua knew damn well that his looks weren’t just looks of admiration. For all his lack of experience with friendship, the former assassin had studied human interaction closely enough to know that friends didn’t look at each other the way he was looking at Gon. 

At first, Killua had tried to tell himself that it was no big deal. Looking at Gon made him happy; it filled his blue eyes with an emotion far softer than a killer should be capable of feeling. Besides, it’s not like looking at Gon was hurting anyone. At least, not yet. 

Because if these looks ever  _ were _ to be noticed, and then interpreted, they could easily become a weapon; a weapon able to plunge itself deep into the heart of Killua’s first and best friendship, where it would rend and tear at the bond between the two boys until there was nothing left. 

Killua crossed a small cobbled courtyard, just off the main street and completely deserted at this time of day. He sat down on the edge of a fountain, grateful for the feeling of the solid stone beneath him and the chill emanating from the falling water. 

However, now that he had stopped moving, his anxiety seemed to be catching up with him now. It stole between the cracks in the cobblestones, crawled up his arms and whispered his deepest fears right into his ears. 

_ If Gon knows something is going on, _ it whispered,  _ you have to assume that others are catching on… or maybe they already know. Surely Bisky isn’t stupid. Or Palm. Or  _ Illumi _ … You know he’s always with you…  _

The fading sunlight, which had at first so resembled fire was suddenly looking more like blood. There was blood on the rooftops, blood in the streets, the fountain in front of him was spewing red liquid into the basin below. 

Killua felt sick. He stood up quickly, wrapping his arms around himself. 

“Stupid,” he whispered, something pricking the corners of his eyes. 

\---

“Killua? Did something happen?” asked Gon, pausing in the middle of unwrapping his Chocorobo. 

After all these years, lying to answer this question felt so much more natural than telling the truth; and Killua was filled with so much relief today that he didn’t even have to go to the effort of faking a smile. “Of course not!” he laughed, pure happiness welling inside him and pushing everything else to a faraway corner of his mind. 

As Killua lay awake that night listening to Gon’s snores, yesterday’s memories whirled through his mind at breakneck speeds: Rammot’s sneering, the putrid scent of Killua’s own terror, the adrenaline setting him on fire as the white-haired boy plunged his claws straight into his own skull. 

Killua knew he had freed himself of a great burden.  _ I felt lighter today,  _ he realized.  _ It’s like that needle weighed five hundred pounds, and it’s just gone now, all at once.  _

A part of him wanted to scream out in victory. He wanted to share his accomplishment with the entire world:  _ hey everyone, I single-handedly freed myself from my brother’s long-standing Nen influence just to be able to save my best friend! _ Most of all, he wanted to tell Gon about what happened. 

But telling Gon, or anyone, would mean talking about his family, specifically Illumi, and everything they had done to him. Worse still, it would mean confessing to his own weakness. How was he supposed to admit to that? How would his friends and teachers feel knowing he had practically been a puppet since they had known him? 

No, he couldn’t even begin to talk about any of that stuff. Not with anyone, and especially not with Gon.

“Whatever,” Killua muttered into his pillow. “No one needs to know.” 

He rolled over and tried to fall asleep. 

\--- 

When Killua and Gon split up somewhere in the wilderness of East Gorteau, Killua felt a strange sense of elation and relief. Of course, he liked being with Gon, but that was precisely the problem. He liked it too much. 

Gon was more than just light. He was the fucking sun, always there up above it all just  _ radiating _ , making Killua feel as if one look from the other boy would be enough to scorch his aching soul, unleashing solar flame which would burn through the layers of lies and hidden things Killua had wrapped around himself, not stopping until the ugly truth was laid bare among the ashes. 

And Killua would laugh to himself sometimes, because once he had started seeing Gon as the Sun, his thoughts had strayed and led to imagining himself as the Moon; and the more he thought about it the more he saw the truth in this vision. The Moon was always following the Sun, though staying hidden on the other side of the Earth so as to avoid a direct look from fiery eyes. The Moon had no light of its own: all it could do to sustain itself was siphon light from the Sun it was bound to. And finally, the Moon had a dark side. It showed its true face only once per month: on the remaining days it hid itself away, only to be wondered at by all who observed it. Whereas the Sun had no qualms showing itself in its true form, taking no heed to protect the eyes of others, the Moon took great care to never reveal everything about itself. 

These were the thoughts filling Killua’s mind as he raced through the foreign forests of East Gorteau, pouncing and slicing left and right, calling instructions out to any citizens whom he happened to encounter along the way. The bruises on his knuckles and his knees, the strained muscles around his fingernails, and the sharp pains in his lungs all made him laugh breathlessly as he ran from village to village: he finally had a little bit of freedom, a small space to be honest with himself. 

That puny Sun in the sky far above him was nothing compared to the Sun he had left behind. This one couldn’t tell the difference between the truth and a lie, nor did it care about his feelings. And so, for the first time since he had first thought it so many months ago, it was here in the wilderness with not a soul for miles around that Killua was first able to say the words “I love Gon” out loud. And though the Sun that heard his words wasn’t the Sun he loved, he could at least pretend to feel some kind of relief. 

\--- 

Killua really thought he was dying, that time in the cave. Hell, he had almost never had that many stab wounds at once; when he had, they had been inflicted in the so-called comfort of his own home-- which was anything but comfortable, but at the very least had offered the certainty that he wasn’t going to die. 

Dying (or, well, almost dying) didn’t particularly hurt: the wounds in Killua’s flesh felt similar to the ache in his chest that he had been feeling for the last few weeks. The former assassin wasn’t dying with any dreams left unreached, either: the only true regret he had as he dreamily watched his blood coat the stone floor of the cave was that he hadn’t been able to help Gon one last time. 

_ But,  _ he thought,  _ that’s a selfish regret. I should be happy, because this way I can be sure that he’ll never find out that I love him. This way, we will always be friends.  _

And he closed his eyes with a faint smile on his face. 

\--- 

Seeing Gon again set Killua alight. Not only with happiness, but also with a shit ton of pure, unfiltered anxiety. These conflicting feelings shot through him like fire had been injected into his veins, and he had to inhale sharply to calm himself down. 

For once, the anxiety didn’t come from the fear of Killua’s own feelings; it came from the fear of Gon’s. Killua knew Gon better than anyone did at this point, and he knew damn well that his best friend hadn’t been the same since that horrible night inside NGL. 

They hadn’t really talked about it, save for a few remarks here and there, a few meaningful looks and promises which hadn’t needed to be spoken out loud. Still, despite the general silence on the top from Gon’s end, Killua thought he had a good idea of what his friend was going through. For one thing, there were the nightmares. In their room at the hotel in Doli, Gon had woken Killua on multiple occasions by trashing around under the covers and occasionally crying into the night. 

Killua had tried to help Gon a couple times; God knows he had experienced enough nightmares about demonic En users of his own. In some deeply hidden, shameful part of him, Killua knew that all he ever wanted after a nightmare like that was to be held. So, he had approached Gon in this manner a couple times: never asking out loud, obviously, but using his gestures and body language to ask permission instead. However, Gon was as stubborn as ever, only ever accepting a glass of water or at most a few whispered words before asking to be left alone so he could fall asleep again. 

Gon never did sleep after waking up from a nightmare like that: Killua knew this, because how the Hell was  _ he _ supposed to sleep after hearing the light of his life in so much pain? 

So after being on separate missions for a few days, Killua was hoping that maybe Gon had somehow magically healed in his absence, or, better yet, that he could return to his friend’s side with the realization that he had overreacted somehow; that Gon wasn’t as bad that he had seemed and that Killua’s own feelings were nothing more than platonic. 

But the moment Killua caught sight of Gon, every fear inside him was immediately confirmed. 

Gon was not at all okay, and Killua was hopelessly, undeniably in love with him. 

\--- 

“Let’s go.”

Suddenly, there was something cold in Killua’s stomach. The shape and sound of these words from Gon’s mouth was like a stony brick of ice, weighing Killua down and dousing the flame of adrenaline inside him. 

_ What do you mean?  _ He wanted to ask, but he knew that these words, like so many others, had to be taken away from him and stuffed somewhere with all the other Things To Never Talk About. 

The way Gon said it, so casually, almost as if the dark-haired boy didn’t realize that he was giving all the signs of being prepared to die for his revenge, as if he didn’t know that Killua would do nothing except die right there with him. 

In that moment, Killua realized that Gon actually  _ didn’t  _ know any of this. He had no idea as to the depth of Killua’s true feelings. Whatever suspicions his friend could have had before what happened in NGL, before what had happened to  _ Kite,  _ they had been utterly erased. And Killua knew he should be thankful for this fact, happy that his secret was safe, but all he felt was a twinge, a turn of that dagger in his chest. Because this was just more proof that Gon was not at all himself.  _ Gon might already be dead in some way,  _ Killua realized.  _ So I will die with his body tonight.  _

Because God forbid he  _ disagreed  _ with Gon, or tried to change his mind; Killua’s love and devotion had made him so weak that he had been completely cowed by Gon’s conviction. He would rather kill the two of them with his bare hands than argue with Gon and risk destroying their relationship.

And then he was flying through the air, right behind Gon as he always would be, letting the wind take the tears from his eyes and sincerely wishing that it all could have ended differently. 

\--- 

_ I’m going to leave him _ , Killua realizes one night. It’s been two days since Nanika healed Gon, two days since the Sun had risen again after the longest night Killua had ever experienced in his life. 

Killua could remember Bisky’s words as clearly as ever: “Somewhere along the line, you’re going to leave him to die.” At the time, he had hated himself for the fact that he could cause anyone to believe this. And then he had literally  _ torn  _ away from Illumi’s influence, with wanting to stay with Gon as his sole motivation. He had fought so hard to stay with Gon all this time, precisely because of these words. 

And now here he was, choosing to leave. 

_ At least,  _ Killua supposed,  _ I saved him before leaving. I’m not leaving him to die.  _

\--- 

When Killua finally did leave, all he told Gon was that he had to look after Alluka and  _ oh, wouldn’t it be nice for you to spend some time alone with Ging?  _ That was, of course, a ridiculously small tip of one of the largest icebergs in history, but  _ I’ve always kept things from him, I’m not going to spill my guts now just because we’re leaving each other. _

And of course, part of him was disappointed that Gon didn’t take his hints. A screaming voice inside his head wished that Gon would apologize for  _ real,  _ that instead of his “Oops! Sorry Killua!” he would take a step forward, hold Killua’s hands in his own, meet glistening blue eyes with those sunny hazel ones and maybe say something like “Killua, I was wrong to push you away. I’m so sorry, please forgive me, I lov—”

Part of Killua wanted to keep stalling, to make this goodbye last forever, because once Gon had actually left, any last fragments of idiotic hope for a situation like this to happen would die off once and for all. 

Killua snorted. Fired off a few more snarky remarks. Watched Gon’s smile, torn between wanting to look at it one last time and looking away to spare himself some of the pain. Took Alluka’s hand, and walked away from Gon, just like that.

\--- 

Killua grunted as he reached the door of the hotel room, having realized too late that there was no way he would be able to knock on the door, let alone unlock it himself, with all these grocery bags in his hands. 

Thinking for a second, he settled on half-nudging, half-slamming his shoulder into the door. 

“It’s me!” he said, keeping his voice down so as not to draw attention to himself. 

Fortunately, Alluka was there to open the door a few seconds later, amusement sparking in her large eyes. “Need any help, brother?” 

“No, I got it,” he said. “Seriously,” he added when his sister gave him a knowing look. 

Huffing, he set down the bags down on the tiny kitchenette counter. 

“Where are we going to put all of this?” Alluka asked. 

“We’ll eat all of it.” 

“What do you mean? You never buy this much.” 

“We’re staying for a little longer this time, Alluka. A week maybe, or even ten days.” 

Alluka’s eyes lit up. “Does that mean we’ll be able to see all the sights this time?” she asked. 

Killua turned his head, his gaze turning soft. Seeing his little sister this happy was enough to transform any expression on his face. “Yes, Alluka. We can. All three of us.” 

Alluka smiled at him, then gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Nanika will be so happy. Thank you, brother!” 

She began to turn, heading towards her bed, but stopped mid-motion as she seemed to think of another idea. “Hey, brother?” 

Killua continued putting away the groceries. “Hmm, what is it?”

Alluka wasn’t looking straight at him; she suddenly seemed to be very focused on a carton of milk which was sitting out. “I was thinking…” 

“What?” Killua prodded. 

“Since we’re staying here for a few days, do you think we might be able to see some of your friends? Like you were telling me about Wing-san, and Zushi. Or maybe we could see Gon?” 

Killua froze where he was, crouched on the floor in front of the fridge. Alluka’s eyes were on him now, but he couldn’t meet them. 

Alluka sensed she had said something wrong, and tried to explain herself. “You know, I was just thinking, you’ve been with just me for three months now… not that that’s a bad thing! I just thought, maybe you—you were missing them, you know? A-And I’m curious too, Brother, I want to see…” 

Seeing Killua’s lack of reaction, her words trailed off. She rounded the counter, sitting on the floor next to him and encouraging him to lean his back against the cabinets. 

Killua could sense the hesitation in her body language, and a dull pang of self-hatred shot through his gut. His baby sister shouldn’t have to be careful around him but here she was, choosing her words carefully as if the wrong choice might break Killua apart. 

After a moment, she spoke up, her soft voice filling the emptiness surrounding him but never the void in his heart. 

“I know you don’t talk about it, but I think I know what’s wrong. Nanika reads you very well, you see. She told me you’re sad…”—her voice dropped to a whisper— “sad about Gon.” 

Killua felt goosebumps on his arms the second the name was spoken. 

“Brother,” Alluka breathed, “What happened?”

Killua didn’t answer, too focused on reining in the panic building inside him. 

“I know we mention him sometimes, maybe even every couple days, but you never go into details. You told me he’s your best friend, but you’ll never tell me stories about him. And… and you always get this  _ look _ on your face that I don’t understand. What happened?”

Killua gritted his teeth, clenching and unclenching his fists. 

“Nothing, really,” he managed to choke out. 

When Alluka spoke next, it was in the gentlest voice Killua had ever heard anyone use to address him. It was a tone one might use when talking to a scared kitten, or perhaps to wake someone up on a gentle morning. Not that Killua would know.

“Brother, that’s not  _ nothing _ .” As she spoke, she reached towards Killua’s hands. 

The white-haired boy followed her gaze, and gasped. His fist was bloody, and his nails were just retracting themselves. 

Wordlessly, Alluka reached over his head, took a dish towel from the countertop and pressed it gently against his wounds. 

“I just wish it hadn’t ended like  _ that. _ ” Killua muttered suddenly, staring at the blood. A few drops had fallen from his palm, staining the knees of his jeans. 

Killua felt Alluka freeze next to him.  _ I don’t blame her,  _ he thought ruefully,  _ we’ve been on the road together for three months and I haven’t actually  _ talked _ about him once. No wonder she doesn’t know what to say.  _

But Alluka recovered quickly, continuing to treat his hand. She didn’t look at him as she spoke, which Killua was grateful for. “It didn’t really end, though, right?” 

Something miserable crossed Killua’s expression. “It may as well have.” 

“But isn’t he your best friend, Brother?” Gentle, his sister was so gentle. Her hands on his were soft, and her voice was inquiring, clearly trying to get him to say more, but never forceful or invasive.

“I… I don’t know,” he admitted. “It’s all so complicated now.” 

He swallowed before continuing. “He… Gon was my first friend. I told you about how I ran away from… from the house, right?” 

In his field of vision, he caught the motion of Alluka’s dark head of hair nodding. 

“I met Gon as soon as I got to the Hunter Exam. I started talking to him because, well, he was my age, you know? No other reason. But he…for some reason, he liked having me around.” 

A strange sound left Killua’s throat, probably intended to be a laugh. “I think he saw us as friends for weeks before I finally did.” 

Alluka hummed. She understood. 

“When I look back at it now, it’s all so  _ obvious.”  _ He gripped his knee with his free hand, taking care so as not to extend his claws by accident again. “Gon’s very… He’s different from you and I. I mean, I’m not saying he’s a normal kid,”—another pseudo-laugh scraped up his throat—” but he didn’t grow up in the Zoldyck house, you know? And I really don’t think he ever realized how different we are because of that.”

Again, Alluka understood. Still, she added to his thoughts, helping him along. “You mean he never realized the extent to which our… I mean, those people, affected you?” 

The lump in Killua’s throat grew in size, now large and painful to speak around. “Yeah.” He exhaled. “I mean, I’m sure Gon was lonely growing up. He’s—He’s told me so himself. He grew up on some tiny island in the middle of… I don’t know, but I don’t think there were really any other kids his age. But his life was still so different from ours, Alluka. I really think he was lonely just because he’s curious, and he likes to talk to people, and I think he was okay as soon as he met me… and Leorio… and Kurapika.”

The first tears had finally leaked free from his eyes, and Killua just hoped that Alluka wouldn’t turn her head, even though his hand had already been bandaged properly by this point. 

“So… he was never hiding any… any _ thing _ from me. He just ran off into the sunset, with his idea to find his dad, nothing holding him back or making him question what to do. He’s just so… He’s just so  _ open _ and  _ himself,  _ all the time, and I think he assumed that I was the same. I told him a couple things about our family and he never asked about it. He never asked, because he assumed that was all there was to it. Because he always tells the whole story, and assumes that other people do, too. Not—Not because he doesn’t care. No, I know that he cares. He just… I- I can’t- “ 

Killua desperately wrested his hand from Alluka’s grasp, trying to cover his face, but he was too late. His little sister turned to look at him, and Killua saw heartbreak fill her eyes as she took in the sight of his tears. 

“Oh, Brother…” she whispered, wrapping her arms around him and burying her forehead into his chest. 

Killua cried quietly, tears rolling down his face and landing on the top of Alluka’s head. He moved in an attempt to wipe them away, but Alluka shushed him and just tightened the hug until he finally relaxed between her and the cupboards. 

The hotel room was completely quiet for a moment save for the hum of the air conditioner, faint calls coming from the market outside and Killua’s occasional sniffs.

It was Alluka who spoke first, murmuring against his chest and still holding him tight. “Brother, I feel like I still don’t understand everything.” She paused. “But I don’t need to. You told me what is most important just now: that you care very much for Gon, but that he also hurt you.”

She leant back just far enough to be able to look at her brothers’ face, and the white-haired boy lifted his gaze slightly. Killua’s skin felt dry and stiff from the tears which were now drying there; the remaining moisture in his tear ducts was hot, blistering at the corners of his blue eyes. 

“The details are between you and Gon. Because one day, not too far from now, you will meet again. And, Brother, you have to talk to him. You have to tell him how you felt, and why you left, and how much you missed him while you were gone. And tell him about our family, and all the other things he probably already thinks that he knows. And, Brother, when he hears this, I know that he’ll listen and he’ll understand. He cares about you too; I know he does.  _ We  _ know he does. Nanika likes Gon a lot too, you see, and she agrees with me.” 

Killua’s eyes, which had been wide open during Alluka’s speech, slowly blinked closed as his face crumpled. A few more slow tears escaped and stained his cheeks. Alluka smiled sadly and reached out with a finger, brushing them away. 

“I’m sorry,” Killua managed to croak a few minutes later. 

Alluka lightly swatted him on the arm. “Brother, don’t be silly. Nanika just said that she’s relieved that you finally told us something, she was getting pretty tired of sitting around waiting for you to break down. And I have to say I agree with her.” 

With that, she stood up, extending a hand to help him up. Killua took it gently and climbed to his feet, making sure to bear most of his weight himself by leaning against the fridge. 

“Thank you, Alluka,” he exhaled. 

Alluka smiled. “Nanika wants to talk to you,” she said. She closed her eyes, and next thing Killua knew he was looking into Nanika’s dark eyes. 

“Killua,” she said, reaching out to him. Her small hands wrapped around his waist, and her mouth turned down in a pout. “Killua.” 

“Hi, Nanika,” Killua whispered, hugging her back gently. 

“Killua, I love you.” 

“I love you too, Nanika.” 

“Killua… Don’t cry.” 

The white-haired boy smiled softly. This was the second new phrase Nanika had learned this week. 

“I won’t, Nanika. I’m not crying anymore, see? I’m okay. You helped.” 

“’Kay.” 

And just like that, Alluka was back. 

“I’ll put the groceries away, okay? You should go and rest, Brother.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes, of course. I’ll bring you some tea in a few minutes.” 

“Thanks, Alluka.” 

As Killua flopped down on his crappy hotel mattress, he felt deep relief. His face was puffy and sore from crying, and his back was cramped from sitting uncomfortably on the kitchen floor, but a tightly-wound coil of anxiety that had been inside him since he had left Gon was significantly lighter. 

_ I’ll come back to you some day, Gon, _ he thought.  _ I fixed myself, I know I can fix us, too.  _


End file.
